


Twelve Days 'Til Christmas

by Crazythatcounts



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cats, Christmas, Gen, M/M, Shenanigans, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazythatcounts/pseuds/Crazythatcounts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian hasn't had a Christmas to celebrate in a long long time, and just because his boss/husband Jim Moriarty is the Grinchiest Grinch to ever not be green doesn't mean he's going to go without. </p><p>Fluff. </p><p>Unfinished, backburnered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twelve Missing Hats

**Author's Note:**

> _On the twelth day 'til Christmas my husband gave to me...._

It was his first time. Well, not really his first. There had been others, of course, but this was different. This time, this wasn’t just one more foray into the fire, no. This was special. It was special because while he and Jim had been working partners for some time, they had been married only a short time, and this was their first time together as a couple. As a married couple, with a little house out in the country that most people assumed belonged to Jim but happened to actually be in Sebastian’s name for the sake of safety, a dog that belonged mostly to Sebastian as well, and a pair of cats, one of which Jim had a love/hate thing for because it was white and loved him more when he was wearing dark suits. Not only was it their first time, it had been a long time for Sebastian. 

It had been a very, very long time since he’d been able to celebrate Christmas. 

He remembered, as a child, his mother attempted to keep up a Christmas with his family. Of course, he didn’t want to get into details, even with Jim pressing him occasionally because family life was something Jim didn’t usually dig for, but Sebastian was one of those kids that realized his mother was Santa very early on. It wasn’t that he was told by a sibling, he just figured it out, knew from how the gifts were wrapped and how he always got a pair of socks when he was sure Santa didn’t know or care about the ones with holes he was hiding in his drawer. He pretended to believe in Santa, however, for his mother’s sake, and that said enough about his childhood Christmases. After that, after school ended and he moved out into the working, well, killing world, Christmas became a thing other people did. Other people had trees and cookies and presents. Other people had family gatherings and drank eggnog and watched _A Christmas Story_ a hundred times on repeat Christmas day. He was lucky if Jim _didn’t_ plant a severed head in his lap Christmas morning as a joke. Jim had never encouraged doing anything festive around the time of year, hell, he discouraged it. 

This was going to be different, however. Sebastian was determined they were going to have a good old fashioned Christmas this year. They were married and officially family and there was no avoiding it like they could when they were both bachelors working together. He’d waited until the 13th before he’d started anything, just to make sure he didn’t put Jim in a bad mood prematurely. He knew how it was, seeing Christmas things in places from early November and October even. It could put even the jolliest Christmas lover in a bad mood, and Jim was anything but. Jim seemed to have a _thing_ against Christmas. 

If Sebastian could joke about it, he’d probably ask if Christmas killed Jim’s mother. He never said that, though, knowing that Jim wouldn’t care if his grandmother got run over by a reindeer, he wouldn’t let that be the reason he hated the holiday. That would be petty, and Jim liked to pretend he wasn’t petty (even though Sebastian knew better). Jim would have probably kept the beast that slain his grandmother just for kicks. But whatever thing Jim had against Christmas, Sebastian knew he had to be gentle. Forcing it would mean one of them would end up in the hospital. 

“Sebastian.” Jim asked, crossing his arms in their living room on that 13th of December. It was a cold December, and Jim had been working all morning, leaving Sebastian to his own devices. Sebastian was, at that moment, wearing a Santa hat. That was the only offense. Well, that and the cats had Santa hats, too. Oh, and the bear they had as a rug. And some other statues around the house. Sebastian was currently attempting to get the dog into a hat. He’d found a little sale, and thought this was a really great way to break Jim into the spirit. Santa hats weren’t really jumping ass deep into Christmas, and they brightened up the place a little without being overly dramatic. “Sebastian, what are you doing?”

“I’m just getting everything a little into the spirit of things, Jim. It _is_ December.” Sebastian replied. He tried to make it sound like nothing, like that _duh_ it was December and this was just what happened and there was no big deal to be had. Nothing being him sitting with two cats, a dog, a bear, and six other hats scattered about the house. “I got one for you.” He looked up, holding the cap in hand with a smile, hoping to see anything but the face that was staring him down. That was not a face that would consider wearing it, let alone keeping it. Jim’s face was the face of a man that was hell bent on never even giving notion to considering it, and that none of this shit would ever be okay in his book. “You don’t like them.”

“They’re ridiculous, Sebastian.” Jim sighed, a heavy sigh, a sigh tired of all of this nonsense. He’d been dealing with Christmas since October, and now Sebastian was starting with it, too. He was a little done with this whole Christmas shit. He held out a hand. “Give them to me. I’m taking all of them.” He shook his head, almost grimacing at the fuzzy feeling as the hat landed in his hand. “Don’t expect them back. I might fancy a good bonfire while you’re out tonight.” Jim finally smiled, a hardened sneer, and that was the worst part, the fact that burning the hats was what brought the little giggle to his face. Sebastian sighed, shaking his head. 

He watched Jim leave to go remove the hats from everything else, leaving him to get the hat back off the dog. He sighed. Okay, so the first attempt was a failure. But that wasn’t going to stop Sebastian. He still had eleven days until Christmas. He had time to change Jim’s mind.


	2. Eleven Torn Down Tinsels

The next day, Sebastian woke to find Jim leaving early. The man still had work to tend to – Criminals didn’t get holidays, Jim had explained when Sebastian had taken the job, and the words were said without complaint – and of course he had to start earlier because his dark suit had of course attracted one of their cats. The cat’s name was Ivan and he was white as a blanket of snow, and of _course_ he loved weaving between his favorite owner’s legs. Especially when the man was wearing dark colored things. It was almost like the cat knew. Sebastian scooped the thing into his arms as Jim changed, straightening his tie in the mirror. Ivan purred happily.

“Feeling more yourself today, Sebastian?” Jim asked, conversationally. However, as both knew what he was referencing – the little stunt with the hats the day before – both also knew that Jim wasn’t being friendly with the statement. There was a very mild threat behind those words, that if Sebastian _wasn’t_ over that Christmas stunt and feeling more himself, there would be words. Usually with them words meant more fists than anything else. Words also meant Jim doing something drastic, and Sebastian grimaced at the thought. 

“Mm.” Sebastian, hummed. It was non-committal, which meant he couldn’t promise anything, and Jim didn’t seem to like the reply. The criminal mastermind was going to say something about that, but Sebastian interrupted him before he could speak. “You’re going to be late.” Sebastian said, pressing a kiss to Jim’s temple, earning a hum of disapproval. However, the hum was enough, because as long as Jim didn’t react badly to those kisses, Sebastian knew he could avoid any undue wrath. 

“If I see any more Christmas anything, Sebastian…” Jim warned, heading for the door. “I will turn you into a pair of snow boots.” 

“Love you too.” Sebastian chuckled, waving his husband out the bedroom door. Jim left moments later, as Sebastian heard the door click downstairs and the dog bark in goodbye. Instead of moving for a while, he flopped back down on the bed, Ivan settled happily on his chest, purring. “He’s not winning this battle, Ivan.” Sebastian muttered. When did it become a battle that Jim could win? Sebastian didn’t know. But he did know he wasn’t giving up, and if that meant going into battle, he’d do it. He sat up, cradling the cat in his arms. “I have an idea.” He smiled, leaving the cat on the bed as he went to change. 

Two hours later, he returned to the house with his next attempt. Tinsel, eleven strands of it in various colors, all stuffed in a bag. It was the kind of tinsel that was fluffy, made soft and trailing and hard to keep in plastic bags. Of course the cats loved it, because it was bright and perfect to chase and attack. Ivan’s brother Tiger, a fat orange slob of a cat, attempted to pounce a trailing end as Sebastian stepped back into the house from the now heavily falling snow. Sebastian paused a moment, wondering how Jim would get back in this weather. It might buy him a little more time. 

It didn’t take long to get the decorations up. The tinsel was trailed over the mantel, over the railings, wrapped in all sorts of places. It hung from all the low places Sebastian could think to hang it without over-using tape or putting it up too high. Maybe, he thought, this would be less appallingly garish to him. At least it made the house look a little pretty, and a little festive. And by keeping it low, they weren’t a challenge to Jim, like he was trying to keep them in places just so Jim couldn’t take them down. 

Sebastian proceeded upstairs to their bed, the day already growing late and the snow falling heavy still. Buying these things took it out of him. He hated shopping, especially during the holidays when everyone was too dumb to know how to drive and didn’t know how to get in and out of a store without causing a ruckus for them and everyone behind them. It made something as simple as buying tinsel a living nightmare. He flopped on the bed unceremoniously, barely kicking off his shoes before slipping to sleep, the dog hopped up beside him happily. 

He woke to Jim shaking him a while later, a stern frown on his face. Not a face Sebastian wanted to wake to. “G’morning Jim.” Sebastian muttered, rubbing at his face with his hands. Jim was frowning but not mad, leaning over the bed with snow still clinging to his coat and hair. Sebastian sat up, reaching up to brush the snow away, pausing only when he noticed there was a fist full of glittering tinsel in Jim’s hand, and he was trailing behind him Tiger, who was more or less packaged in the stuff. 

“I would get you to take all this down, but apparently the cats detest the stuff as much as I do and did us a favor.” Jim grumbled, tossing the tinsel in Sebastian’s face. Sebastian batted it to the floor where Tiger proceeded to become even more entangled in the stuff. Jim kicked off his shoes, climbing into bed beside his husband, dragging the man back to the bed where Sebastian could finally brush the snow from Jim’s hair. “You really need to stop this, Sebby, dear.” 

“No.” Sebastian murmured, tired again now that Jim was home. Sure, he could argue all his reasons, why he wanted Jim to enjoy Christmas with him, but he didn’t really feel into it right then, face pressed against his husband’s hair. He was too warm and felt too nice to get into it right now. “I want Christmas.” He added, softly. That was all he was in the mood to say.

“Sentimental pain.” Jim murmured in return, face pressed against Sebastian’s neck, Jim’s nose cold against Sebastian’s exposed skin. Sebastian chocked it down as at least a little win, because he hadn’t been scolded for the tinsel. However he imagined one of them would have to remove the tinsel from the cats, and he figured that was probably scolding enough.


	3. Ten Vanished Wreathes

He’d found them in some ugly corner shop during work that day. They were the least Christmasy looking things Sebastian had ever seen, and that was including the stuff he found lounging around stores just after Halloween. Ten wreathes, all settled in a row, black twig and red garnish. They were actually kind of pretty, and reminded Sebastian more of a funeral than anything else. They were also on sale, and damn that was good, because if Sebastian was going to keep spending his own money on this, he needed to start saving. He still had to buy something as a present, and Jim was about as easy or cheap to shop for as trying to shop for Donald Trump. At least he had good taste. 

The wreathes were bought and hung while Jim was finishing up some consulting work in an office across town. Sebastian spent a few hours out in the snow with a hammer and some nails and those wreathes, arranging them as best he could. When he was done, he stepped inside and fetched his dog, putting the pup on a leash before stepping back to admire his work.

The wreathes didn’t look bad on their house. They looked well placed, sitting just between the windows and just below the ones on the first floor. Sebastian reached out to adjust the one he put on the door, before brushing off his hands. That didn’t look anything like Christmas. It looked like someone had died. Multiple times. Which was an appropriate sentiment for their house. “What do you think, Basher?” Sebastian asked the dog, patting the canine on the head. Basher barked, shifting excitedly. Of course he was excited, he was on a leash outside with his master. Walks were in order. “Hopefully Jim won’t flip because they’re wreathes.” Sebastian said. After a moment he sighed, rubbing at his hands in the cold. 

He really had to stop lying to himself. Of course Jim was going to have kittens – he was going to have some kind of hell spawned demonic kittens at this mess. He just hoped those kittens didn’t accidentally burn the house down trying to light the wreathes on fire or something. Or that the kittens didn’t decide to actually attempt to make him into boots. Sebastian had no interest in being boots. “Come on Bash, let’s go for a walk. Maybe we can avoid the bang of Jim going off if we’re not here when he gets back, yeah?” Sebastian asked, and Basher barked, leading his master down the street, away from the bewreathed house and through the knee deep snow. 

When they returned, the wreathes were gone. Well, all but the one on the door, which was sort of lopsided and half hinged, like someone had attempted to remove it but couldn’t get it off the door so they left it in a huff. So Jim had flipped. Sebastian braced himself, cracking the door, Basher shaking the snow off on the front matt. Sebastian had expected to see his husband wielding some sort of weaponry at him for disobeying this whole no Christmas silent rule thing not once but three times, but instead all he found was Jim sitting on the couch by the fire drinking tea. Jim was silent, tense, and Sebastian could feel the unwell atmosphere as he entered the room. “Have a good walk?” Jim asked, voice cold. Sebastian grimaced. Jim didn’t need a weapon, that touch of ice was enough. 

“Yeah.” Sebastian let the dog in, unhooking the leash from the collar. Basher proceeded to head for the fire, curling up by it and panting happily. There was a moment before Sebastian spoke, rubbing at the back of his head as he tried to think of some way to explain the wreathes. “So, uh, about the—“

“We’re not discussing it.” Jim said sharply, setting the tea down. The words left Sebastian flailing for nothing, and the man shifted in the doorway awkwardly as Jim continued. “We’re not discussing anything you’ve attempted recently. What we _are_ going to discuss is our outing tomorrow. You and I have nothing to do until after the Christmas season finally ends again this year, so tomorrow I have something planned for us.” 

“Is this plan something I should look forward to, or something I should be worried about?” Sebastian asked carefully. He didn’t like the look on Jim’s face. It was manic sort of grin Jim had, and it wasn’t the manic grin of lopping off heads or breaking into buildings to classical music. No, Jim always liked to grin like that when he was torturing people. He grinned like that when he was striking people across the face for speaking out of turn. He grinned like that during what he called _learning moments_. Not _teaching moments_ , teaching implied patience and learning new things. No, his moments were about reminding someone that there is something they should inherently know and failed at. 

“You’ll need your gun.” Jim purred as his only reply, finally turning to face Jim with that manic little grin. Sebastian smiled a little. 

Okay, learning moment aside, this was something to look forward to.


	4. Nine Murdered Reindeer

“So.” Sebastian stared down the scope of his gun again with a sigh. They were in the forest out behind the town they’d hunkered down in, in the middle of December, wearing camouflage clothing, perched in a tree, hunting deer. Jim had taken him hunting in this freezing cold weather. Specifically taken Sebastian hunting, and not taken them hunting as a pair (something Sebastian almost wanted to do until he thought about giving Jim a gun and telling him to fire it), because Jim didn’t have a gun with him. He was just sitting there, swinging his legs over the edge of the branch they’d perched in, making a whole lot of noise for wanting Sebastian to have a good chance at finding anything, and because of the lack of anything Sebastian finally felt free to speak. “We’re out hunting. This is your big surprise outing.” 

“Yes.” Jim replied, looking a little disappointed in the outcome of this outing so far. He shifted on the branch. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. He thought this experience would go a little faster, maybe bag a few deer in an hour and go home for tea. They’d been out there now for three hours and Jim was bored. 

“I feel like I’m missing something important here. Like the point you’re trying to make?” Sebastian asked. He looked down the scope again, and again there was nothing out there. It was entirely empty. Not even the birds were singing, and the wind was blustery and the snow was still falling. 

“Well, Sebby, _you_ started this game.” Jim hissed. Oh, great, now it was a game, and not just a game but one of Jim’s games. This wasn’t good. Jim played very specific games, and he was very good at playing the games he played, and he was very bad about losing them. He neve really lost because if it looked like he was losing, he cheated. Sebastian groaned. He was fighting a losing battle at this point, he figured, if Jim was playing against him now and not before, before when he tore down the tinsel and the wreathes and the hats. “You tried to knock the Christmas spirit into me. I’m knocking it out of you.” Jim explained.

“By hunting. Nothing.” Sebastian frowned. Something felt off here. If Jim was really playing, this would have been better, more orchestrated. It was like he wasn’t really playing at all. He would have understood exactly what Jim wanted from him and complied as soon as he did, but now they were just sitting around, confused. 

“I understand it would have been more effective to have hunted reindeer, but the papers to hunt reindeer take _ages_ to forge and the flight would have taken too long, so I went with the faster option.” Jim sighed. Even he seemed disappointed in this trick. It was funny, of course. If it had gone like Jim wanted, Sebastian would have had to shoot nine reindeer. He chuckled. “You’re not supposed to find this funny.” Jim complained, loudly. Well, there went any chance of finding anything out here.

“Shooting Santa’s reindeer? Really, Jim?” Sebastian chuckled. “That’s how you plan to knock Christmas out of me?” 

“For that,” Jim said, starting down from the tree as best he could, “I’m going home. You’re not allowed back in the house unless you have a buck slung over your shoulders, do I make myself clear?” Jim growled. Well, this didn’t bode well. Jim’s idea hadn’t gone over well, and now he was angry about it. Sebastian was in trouble because Jim was losing. He’d probably be sleeping on the couch tonight, and this wasn’t even his fault. 

Hours later, Sebastian stumbled into the house. It was late, Jim was obviously asleep upstairs. Sebastian was tired, covered in mud and blood, and half frozen. He’d finally shot something, and he had to walk the stupid buck back home himself because Jim had taken all the transportation with him. The buck was big, too, bigger than Sebastian, and even a strong man such as himself would have trouble carting that home. He’d hung it outside, and when he entered into the warm house he nearly left again, because his hands and feet were so cold the warmth hurt. He knew better, however, and stripped off some of his wet outer gear, curling up in front of the still roaring fire. 

That night, Sebastian didn’t even sleep on the couch.


	5. Eight Missing Mistletoe

He’d been jerked awake with a towel hitting his face. The fire had died out in the night, and Sebastian was cold again, curled up on the floor with a wet towel on his face. “You’re filthy.” Jim grumbled, heading past the living room without saying a word about Sebastian’s sleeping position and into the kitchen. Sebastian closed his eyes again, groaning. He’d barely slept, and what little sleep he had gotten on that floor was awful. And disturbed by cats at six that morning, begging to be fed. “Go shower.” Jim ordered from the kitchen.

Sebastian didn’t argue, stumbling upstairs to the shower, sore from the sleep on the floor and still covered in dirt. While in the shower, he started to think, slightly more alert under the hot water. Okay, so this was now a game for Jim. Jim was trying to take the Christmas out of Sebastian as much as Sebastian was trying to get Jim to celebrate for once. That meant, if Sebastian was correct, that it was his turn to make a move. Jim had just taken his first try, and Sebastian tried to think of an easy thing to start with. 

When he returned downstairs, dressed and clean, he had an idea. Jim was bustling at the door, looking more like a child wrapped in sweaters than a professional criminal. “We’re out of nutella so I’m going out.” Jim was not in a good mood. Jim was in a mood to take people’s heads off. Sebastian didn’t need to worry about Jim getting hurt out there. He actually almost worried for the other holiday shoppers. Jim might actually kill one of them if they got in his way.

“Be careful. Don’t’ kill anyone.” Sebastian called, approaching the door. He paused there, leaning down to press a kiss to Jim’s temple. A hum of disapproval, but the man didn’t jerk away. Sebastian smiled, knowing that little sign meant he wasn’t in _that_ much trouble yet. Jim was still willing to tolerate all this. Sebastian watched Jim go, stepping out to see that he was down the street before the man made his move. 

It had taken a shower to remind him they had mistletoe on a tree behind the house. It was easy enough to get to if Sebastian could climb the tree. In this weather, however, it proved harder, and when he finally got back inside, it was with only a couple good sprigs of the stuff and a very wet sweater. He was shivering by the time Jim returned, hanging up the last little piece in the doorway. “You nauseatingly sentimental _pain in my ass…_ ” Jim growled. Of course he knew what the stuff was for. “You’re going to freeze to death just to get me spirited, aren’t you?” 

“Right now, I’m just aiming for a kiss.” Sebastian chuckled. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. It’s what he got for wearing a thin ass sweater to go climb a tree and then fall into a waist deep snow bank and get soaked through. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s more insane holiday dribble.” Jim grumbled. However, he complied, leaning up to kiss Sebastian softly. It wasn’t anything Sebastian was used to, and he was almost disappointed. “Go change.” Jim crossed his arms. “Before you turn into an ice cap and I have to make you into something interesting before you melt away.” 

When Sebastian returned, the mistletoe was gone.


End file.
